Hajsza

“Man fucks woman. Man subject. Woman object. That’s fine for you. Woman fucks man. Woman subject. Man object. That’s not so comfortable for you, is it?” The British sister of Saga Norén finds herself in a world of men who love women...but in a very unhealthy way. Complex female characters are still not something so common in films and series, especially crime films and series, that I would be enthusiastic about The Fall only because of Stella Gibson. It is fascinating how Gillian Anderson puts such great effort into every nonverbal message while embodying the role of an exceptionally intelligent professional with an analytical mind and strong moral principles. Thanks to the multiple meanings of her seemingly apathetic glances, we are not indifferent to Stella, despite her coldness. At the same time, she never shows so much empathy that she would completely negate the parallels between herself and Paul, on which the dynamics of the narrative are based. Both of them find satisfaction in work done flawlessly, both are almost fanatically devoted to their respective missions, both are predators (though the ending of the first season indicates that one of them could become prey next time). We are led to search for similarities between the elusive serial killer and the good detective not only by the dialogue about dual personalities, but also by a parallel montage of their respective actions, carried out with the same precision and possibly with similar psychological motives (coming to terms with the past). The creation of thematic, motivic and compositional connections between Stella and Paul’s storylines, with the essential question “WHEN will they finally face each other?” in the background, contributes to the chilling feeling that the killer is at least implicitly present at all times. Instead of outright horror scenes (as in Luther), this unrelenting malevolent sense of foreboding is the main safeguard preventing viewers from losing interest. In fact, the characters certainly spend more time analysing their mistakes than successfully resolving situations, and the joy of most shifts in the investigation is further tempered by cutaways to another crime committed. One step forward, two steps back. 90% (2015.01.10)

...and justice for all? I can understand the disappointment of those who expected another thrilling game of cat and mouse, instead of which they got Paul Spector’s six-hour anamnesis. At the same time, however, I appreciate the creators’ courage to take a different approach (more dialogue, less action, a slower pace) and stick with it from start to finish (with a constantly high level of directing and acting). The same is true for the series as for its first episode – it begins where other narratives end and goes into the smallest details about the men and, especially, the women Spector has affected and the procedural steps associated with verifying his medical condition, which would take only a few minutes elsewhere. The result is (psychological) believability and gradually rising uncertainty about what awaits us once the final layer of Spector’s personality has been revealed. The focus of the series thus essentially remains on uncovering the murderer’s identity and intentions, only this time, instead of suspense, it raises questions relating to morality, upbringing, parenting and justice (how to deal with a person who may not know that he is a murderer). Spector serves as a mirror of the fears and insecurities of the other characters, who are connected to him in various ways and share responsibility for his condition and the safety of those around him. In the finale, the others are paradoxically far more unstable than Dornan’s chillingly calm psychopath (one became an alcoholic, someone else is overcome with loneliness), who retains some control of the situation until the final moments. Despite the initial reservations, this turned out to be a meaningful and satisfying, if not breathtaking, conclusion to the series, which is extraordinary for, among other things, its even distribution of strengths (and attention) between the sides of good and evil. (2016.10.31)

If this weren’t an episode of The Fall, it could have been a highly above-average episode of ER. It is still a first-class procedural, overwhelming viewers with information that they don’t need to know but which contributes to the realistic effect. We don’t follow the investigators at work, but the heroes who come after them – the hospital staff. Serious moral issues are still addressed (death vs. justice, providing aid no matter what the person lying before you on the operating table has perpetrated), Stella’s ambivalent relationship to Spector remains the centrepiece of the narrative, and the compactness of the narrative is still breathtaking (only the hallucinations with the hackneyed light at the end of the tunnel are somewhat off the mark). However, doubts are raised as to whether it wouldn’t have been better to end on a high note and whether the series’ creators were able to come up with a solid enough plot for another six hours of narrative. In this respect, the first episode, despite its high degree of suspense, comes off mainly as an effort to kill some time and it doesn’t tell us much about what will happen next or whether there is a reason to look forward to it other than the great directing, actors and bold feminist subtext (which is actually not negligible). (2016.10.03)